Date: Sun, 1 Jul 2012 13:47:31 -0700 (PDT)
From: David Bob
Subject: Andrew & Luke // Chapter 4
This is a work of fiction, however, the characters in this story and their
respective descriptions are real and true to life. If you have any
questions regarding my story, or would like to request a new chapter or if
you would like to rate this story, please e-mail me at davidbob42@yahoo.com
:D
COPYRIGHT 2012 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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I rushed to pull on my clothes in Peter's Camaro. Peter was still with me
in the back, on the flattened make-shift bed, watching me getting
dressed. "What's the rush?"
"Uh... I was heading over to my place before you drove up to me so I could
drop off my school stuff, and then I promised to go over to a friend's
house at 3."
As I pulled on my jeans, Peter laid a hand on my shoulder. "Did our
play-time interfere with you getting to your friend's?" he asked slowly.
I glanced at the digital clock in the car: 2:49 PM. I faced him: "Well, not
really. I still have time to get there."
"I can give you a ride there. Is it that house over there?" Peter pointed
at a beige-colored house a block away from our location.
I checked the house he pointed at, then confirmed that it was Drew's. I
nodded. "Yup."
He looked at me curiously. "Drew? He's your friend?"
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I take it you know him?"
"I knew his sister before she headed to Nebraska. Then I got to know Drew a
little. Ya know, his sister, Katy, she likes me. Thinks we'll get married
someday."
I was astonished. "But you said that you're gay."
"I am. That's the part she never wants to accept."
I stared out the black windshield, deep in thought. Just then, I noticed
Peter's golden face leaning in to mine. "Just before we part ways today,
you wanna go again?" He had a sly look on his face.
Just before I could gleefully respond, his head was already bobbing up and
down on my once-again rock-hard boner, while slipping my jeans off and to
the floor. I was moaning loudly, wanting to come desperately but loving the
wild sensation of getting a free blowjob.
Peter was still nude, obviously, and still rock-hard. His cock was at full
height, 8 inches total. His sagging ballsack was also a heavenly
sight. While Peter was busy entertaining my dick, I reached over and jacked
his rod off at lightning-speed, mesmerized at how his ballsack bounced
furiously.
I felt a rush building. "Peter... I'm gonna..." Then he pulled off my
dick. "I thought so." And with that, he stretched himself back, allowing
his monster cock to stick out in the air. He beckoned me to sit on his dick
again. "Please?"
"Uh..." I hesitated, while pulling off my clothes again and giving my dick
another little wank.
"What's so hard? You already let me fuck you, like, 5 minutes ago."
"Yeah, but I was really horny then and willing to take anything--" I
noticed the disappointment on his beautiful face, and felt sorry at that
moment. Without making quick movements, I silently sat on his stomach, with
my face buried in his muscular chest. I felt a hand ruffling my hair. "I'm
sorry, Peter."
His hand stopped moving through my hair. "For what?"
I looked into his eyes: they were skeptical, curious at what my response
would be. "I was just a little nervous to take your monster up my ass
again," I said shyly.
"If you don't wanna do that again, please tell me, Luke," he said, sitting
up and sliding me into his lap, his limping dick pressed against my
ass-cheeks.
I almost started shedding tears. The reason was that my father died when I
was 6 years old. That might sound cliché or an
I-heard-that-story/memory-before idea, but the only reason why it left me
so heartbroken for so many years was that I witnessed his death, right in
front of my eyes. I was in the front seat, while he was driving to the
grocery store to buy my mother some broccoli and suddenly, both of his
front tires blew out. Immediately, the car spiraled out of control. Dad was
on the phone when the tires popped, with only one hand on the wheel. I
remembered his phone flying out of his hand and crashing into the side of
my head, leaving me unconscious for a good hour. I was only knocked out
because his phone was a Nokia, a real brick of a phone. From that day on, I
was no longer mischievous and stupid (as I was told), but quiet; I also
took a liking to isolating myself, so I could just be alone from the cruel
world.
A tear dropped onto my bare chest. Peter didn't seem to notice, though. I
was crying because I realized that Peter was almost like a father to
me. Since Dad died, I didn't get along well with my Mom. But when I turned
10, almost 4 years after the accident, Mom realized that I did poorly in
school for the past years because of that accident. Since then, she managed
to get a good-paying job, pay the bills, re-marry (and this guy is pretty
hot, too--wow, Mom has good taste. Maybe I'll do something with him...),
and allow me a lot of privacy. She also decided to let me alone, since the
accident would leave me in shock for a long time. I never told anyone about
that time, but now I decided to let in on one special guy.
"Peter..." I whispered.
I felt his cheek on mine. "Hmm?"
"I... I love you. Not just 'cause you're hot, or that your dick makes my
saliva drip like a waterfall, but because you remind me of Dad. He died
almost 9 years ago, and I was with him when he did."
Silence. "I'm very sorry, Luke. I never thought that happened to you."
I shrugged slightly. Then I told him my life since the accident. He didn't
interrupt me the whole time, but just sat and listened. Upon my completion,
I turned and saw his face--grief, sympathy, surprise. Then he leaned in and
kissed my lips, holding them there. My muscles relaxed, tense when I
recalled everything from my memory.
He let go. Then he hugged me tightly, and although his limp dick pressed
against me temptingly, I ignored it, and melted in his muscular embrace. I
sighed deeply, closing my eyes briefly. When I opened them, the clock read
3:31 PM.
I paused for a moment. Was that clock set correctly? I thought. Because if
it was, I'm in deep shit with Drew, I finished wryly. My arms slid off of
Peter's back and I reached for my clothes hurriedly.
Before I let Peter ask, I said, "I'm in deep shit with Drew, 'cause I was
supposed to be at his place half an hour ago!" Peter wrenched his head to
look at the clock, and with that he rearranged the flattened chairs and
erected them again, restoring the title of the machine we were in to "car",
no longer "uncomfortable mobile bed".
As I pulled on my shirt and fastened the buttons, my pants and underwear
were still removed, and that's when I noticed Peter coming back to join me
in the back. I thought it sexy when people's shirts were still on
themselves, but from the waist down, they were naked. And that was the case
with me.
Before Peter started the car, he climbed back into the backseat and kissed
me again, while saying, "I love you, too" and sitting his muscular ass on
my dick again. When he pumped my dick with his ass for the fourth time,
streams of juice poured into Peter's hot ass. Lifting himself off of me,
cum dropped from his ass onto the front seats.
When I saw Peter settling himself behind the wheel, I signaled him to 'get
a move on to Drew's house'. He cranked up the powerful engine while I
pulled on my crumpled briefs and jeans, but was thrown forward when Peter
slammed the brakes.
"Fuck!" he exclaimed.
I was confused for a second, but followed his gaze out the window where a
loud rapping noise resounded from the side of the car. When I looked over
to see what it was, there stood a tall figure in uniform with a black baton
in hand, and in back of the Camaro was another vehicle with flashing
red-and-blue lights.